


Love's Philosophy

by locheia



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Gabriel is a thot, Good Omens Spoilers, Holy Water, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, The Sound of Music References, hell fire, i'm going to be blocked by so many people and i deserve it, i'm tagging for chapters that don't exist yet, just let me have this okay, spoilers?, they're all FOOLS, uhh, unusual holy communion, uriel's not straight, welcome to realising you can love a demon: the crash course for dummies, when is gabriel not a thot that's the real question
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-12 21:04:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19237063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/locheia/pseuds/locheia
Summary: Love is the one of the strangest emotion for humans, but when Heaven and Hell hear about the first love story between an Angel and a Demon, that only complicates matters to a higher (and lower) level. And the Archangels are not prepared.Or, every celestial being is a dummy and should attend therapy, the fic.





	Love's Philosophy

**Author's Note:**

> And so it begins.

They’re all sitting together having holy communion when they first hear of it.  
The Hall is vast, but within it only contains a small, rounded table, where the Archangels sit. They take communion together every day at the same time, and yet it’s rather dissimilar to human communion. After all, they have no need to pray to the Almighty daily, already having received salvation. It would be like praying to your friend or your aunt or the cashier at your local Greg’s, if angels knew what a Greg’s was, of course. A loaf of bread is conjured up, alongside a jug of equally sanctified wine, and Gabriel is always the one to lead. The spiel is the same as on earth - “This is my body and this is my blood” etc etc, and then they eat. Being the Archangels they are, they have no need or real desire to eat, but it’s a tradition. It feels right.  
When they’re done, and Uriel is dabbing away the spill of wine from her lips with a handkerchief, they talk business. Usually it’s of holy acts, saving repentant sinners and which new sportswear lines Gabriel’s mad about, but normalcy seems to have fled Heaven after the Armgeddidn’t.  
Those things don’t matter when they consider what happened only days before, something that shook them to their cores.  
An angel, a principality, stood in hellfire with instant death assured -  
and lived. He more than lived, the Archangels uncomfortably recall, he seemed to revel in it, spat fire at them, glowered with hellish hate. It’s a terrifying memory, and the Archangels shudder at the thought. And Michael stays tight lipped whenever they ask her what she saw downstairs, but from the look in her eyes, they have a good guess.  
“How,” Uriel asks, with a trembling voice that’s trying to be strong, “Gabriel, how did he do that?”  
“I have no idea,” the Archangel swallows, the bread in his throat heavy and sickly mixed with wine, “But Aziraphale is-“  
“-something else.” Michael finishes. She looks up, her eyes filled with an awed fear the rest have never seen before, and suddenly she speaks again.  
“So is the demon Crowley.”  
The table turn to her in shock at that, and Sandalphon can barely find the strength to ask her, “What do you mean?”  
Michael’s grip on the tablecloth increases, and she pulls her muscles so taut she looks as if she could snap. “They put him the bath, of holy water. And he just - he didn’t react at all. The demons were terrified, he splashed holy at them, he taunted them... he had the audacity to ask me for a towel.”  
The Archangels stare, jaws open in shock. “You mean nothing happened to him?”  
Michael only nods in answer, and the other three feel the fear spreading over their bodies, because this cannot be part of the Plan, it just can’t be, it doesn’t work, make sense. How can a demon and an angel survive their punishments, ones that have always worked before?  
Just like Crowley and Aziraphale, it is something else entirely.  
They stay silent, the air in the hall thick with horror, until Sandalphon breaks it with a short sentence.  
“I- I’ve heard rumours.”  
“Rumours?” Gabriel queries, violet eyes flashing in anticipation and worry, “About what?”  
“How they were able to do it. Survive their punishments, that is.”  
“You mean...”  
“They’re just rumours, of course.”  
“It doesn’t matter!"  
“They do make a lot of sense.”  
“Tell us then!” Michael impatiently cries, fingers rapping the tabletop in stress. “Stop wasting time!”  
In response, Sandalphon leans in conspiratorially, and the Archangels copy the movement, huddling together.  
“They swapped bodies,” he whispers, “And they changed forms.”  
Uriel blinks. “That’s not possible. Celestial beings can mimic other forms, but we can’t switch them. Not even Gabriel can do it.”  
“I tried it with Michael aeons ago,” Gabriel confirms, “And we couldn’t do it. There’s no way that’s true.”  
The other two murmur in concurrence, but Sandalphon isn’t done.  
“That’s not all of it though.”  
“Hmmm?”  
“They were able to switch forms because...”  
“Why?”  
“Because...”  
“Yes?!” Michael is teaching the end of her tether. She looks ready to pounce on Sandalphon, so he decides to drop the dramatic flair.  
“Because - they’re in love.”  
The other three blink, processing the information. A beat passes, before Michael pulls away and laughs.  
“You’re kidding. That’s impossible.”  
Sandalphon shrugs, a smile playing on his lips as well. “I said it was only a rumour. Some fools think that the ‘power of love’ saved them, but of course, demons can’t love.”  
“No, of course not,” Michael grins, “A demon in love? Give me a break!”  
“Next they’ll say demons like cuddling!”  
“Or being kissed!”  
“Or getting married!”  
The two begin to giggle, as if they’ve heard the funniest joke in the whole of heaven, and turn to their companions.  
“Isn’t that hilarious, Gabriel?” Sandalphon looks to his side, expecting to see Gabriel laughing with them. Michael turns to Uriel as well, but what they expect is definitely not what they get.  
Gabriel is staring blankly, his features overcome with some strange emotion, and he’s crossed his legs and arms. His breathing is suddenly shallower, his torso heaving gently.  
Uriel looks no better, either. Her mouth is slightly parted and a flush has found it’s way up her neck and onto her cheeks. She looks like she’s closing in her body, and her wings curl in as if to protect her chest from attack.  
In short, they look as if they’ve just realised a truth that’s evaded them since the beginning. And Holy Heavens has it changed everything.  
Before their friends can ask what’s wrong, they both shoot to their feet, unsteady and clumsy.  
“Uh-“ Gabriel begins, smoothing down his jacket, avoiding eye contact with the other Archangels, “I need to go.”  
“Yeah, uh, I also need to leave,” Uriel tries, moving to tuck her chair in, and stepping away from the table.  
“Why?” Michael asks, confused at the sudden changes in their personalities.  
“I have things to do-“  
“Yeah, um I‘ve got-“  
“Archangel things like-“  
“Paperwork,” Uriel helpfully says, "We’ve got paperwork.” Gabriel agrees, slowly backing away from the table, Uriel following example.  
“Yeah, loads of the stuff-"  
“All the saving of souls-"  
“You just gotta file that stuff, right-"  
“Can’t leave them unregistered, haha-"  
“Yeah so, we, uh, have to attend to that-" They smile awkwardly, fumbling behind them for the door to the hall.  
“Um, okay, but are you alright?” Sandalphon starts, but the two interrupt before he can say anymore.  
“Yeah, we’re cool! We’re great!”  
“We’re celestial archangels, we’re wonderful!”  
“Don’t worry about us!”  
“Bye!” Then they’re gone, slipping out the door, barely acknowledging each other as they flee to go do “paperwork”.  
Michael and Sandalphon watch them go in utter bewilderment, unsure of what they’ve just seen, before glancing at each other.  
“What was that?”  
“I have no idea.”  
“...”  
“...”  
“Want to watch ‘The Sound of Music’ until they come back?”  
“...Sure.”

**Author's Note:**

> There we go, that's the first chapter! I hope you guys liked it!  
> And if anyone wanted to know, this is named after the poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley, it's one of my favourites! I was going to name it 'When we two parted' (the one by Byron) but that's too sad for this fic, we've got hope left for these fools.


End file.
